Grunt
by Phantasm.Angel
Summary: While the rest of the world watches, Hoenn burns, caught in-between the deadly fanaticism of two terrorist organizations, but as each side moves towards a final clash, two recruits find themselves at the center of events with the ability to save the country or destroy it forever.


Hoenn never was a shining beacon of stability, but, to be fair, no country is perfect. While the situation wasn't as bad as lawless, barren Orre, it also paled in comparison to the history and power enjoyed by the Tohjo Union and the Unovan Republic. The main hindrance to Hoenn's success was the tangled network of regionalization that fostered a distrust of the federation's government, and provided a hotbed of support for not just one, but two terrorist organizations, Magma and Aqua. The former claimed to seek the expansion of Hoenn's landmass in order to ease fears of lost chances for opportunity vanishing in the overcrowding and urbanization of inland regions. The latter hoped to promote the growth of the sea in order to better the economic prospects and preserve the way of life for the coastal and island dwellers of the region. However much the higher-ups believed in these visions is open to debate, as they often spent far more time fighting each other for control of the country then they did working for any concrete gains. As for their foot soldiers, there was almost no enthusiasm for such delusional goals.

No, the truth behind the bulk of recruits to Magma and Aqua joining was because there was no other opportunity to better themselves and find their fortunes, even before the country's Pokémon League lost its accreditation and collapsed into warring cells based on regional loyalties. Reached young by stories of heroism and other propaganda, the teenagers of Hoenn were among the easiest to recruit as the cynicism of that age was tempered by the cultural identity fostered by their regional group. One such foot soldier was a young man named Landon. At fifteen he had joined Magma against the express wishes of his parent and a year later was being briefed on his first mission.

The teen listened intently as his local cell leader, a man known only as the Chief to his underlings, described the job. Once some of the world's best and brightest were educated in Hoenn, now only the most foolish stayed if they had the means to flee. One such man was the president of the Devon Corporation, who had received such generous grants from a government desperate to promote enterprise that he could pay off both Magma and Aqua for protection and still manage to turn a profit. Apparently, Devon had produced some highly advanced machine part that needed to be secured from Aqua, Landon struggled to appear interested as the Chief rattled off the technical aspects of his target, but found even his façade flagging. His head was just beginning to dip when his superior brought him back.

"Grunt! Did you hear what I said?" the heavyset man rasped.

"Yes, sir," Landon replied, "just waiting for the stuff that, you know, matters?"

"This all matters to you, grunt. Got that?"

"Why the hell should I care about some supersonic, radar, whatever?" Landon shot back, only to feel a strong hand digging into his neck and his face slamming on the table. He rolled his head to one side and saw his boss leaning in close with a pocket knife extended and held up so it could catch the glow of the single lightbulb that illuminated the room.

"You'll care because I told you to care and because if you ever disobey an order again, I'll cut off that beak of yours and feed it to my Poochyena while you watch, got it, grunt?" Landon gulped and tried to nod, but only felt the hand on the back of his neck tighten. "Say it, grunt," the Chief whispered as he pressed the cold metal against the top of the teenager's nose.

"I care," Landon said, quickly adding, "sir." Almost at once, the pressure was gone and he was able to sit back up and breathe.

"So," his boss continued nonchalantly, stowing his weapon, "the reason why we have to act fast is because that package is already on its way, most likely by courier, and the second it reaches Aqua territory, it's gone."

"Where do I take it then?"

The Chief smiled, "Petalburg Woods, we get you past the Aqua sentries and you snatch their prize miles away from them."

"And Devon doesn't know about this?"

"No," the larger man said with a grin that showcased yellowing teeth, "it appears that their protection money never showed up, must has gotten lost in the mail, so we can claim fair game. Any other questions?"

"Yeah, what happens if I get caught, man?" Landon asked.

"If that happens, you'll die in an Aqua prison or be killed because they know we won't pay a cent for your skinny ass."

"What happens if I just flat-out fail?"

"Then you'll die as soon as I get my hands on you. Anything else?"

Landon just looked down at the metal table in front of him.

"Good, go get ready, we start moving in an hour."

Landon left the briefing room and its cramped confinements and stepped into the fading sunlight that erupted from over the horizon. A long time ago, this area was the site of a town known as Oldale. It was never a thriving metropolis, but rather a place that could describe itself as quaint without sounding ridiculous. The clash between Magma and Aqua destabilized the whole country though and even sleepy burgs like Oldale were not spared; most of the population in the southeast had fled to the "free city" of Rustburo. Oldale now served as the headquarters for Magma activity in the region while the similarly affected Petalburg played a similar role for Aqua.

Landon looked back at the building he had just exited. Once it would have been easily identifiable as a Poké Mart, but its trademark blue roof was faded and chipped with age and disrepair and the sliding doors that had once greeted customers buying their first Poke Balls or Potions were gone, replaced by a ratty old red curtain emblazoned with Magma's logo.

He squinted at the structure and tried to remember if he had ever seen it, or anything in what was left of Oldale, before a Magma had taken over. There was a glimpse of a trip he had taken with his mom many years ago, but any attempt to grasp the wisp of memory proved futile and the young man let it go, focusing his energy instead on getting ready for his first mission.

He walked to his tent, pitched close enough to the river separating Mauville and what was left of Oldale that he could fetch fresh water to keep himself clean and alive, but far enough away to avoid any outbursts from the local Gyarados population. Once inside his dwelling, Landon grabbed his solitary Poke Ball and released its contents in a flash of red light that took the shape of a small canine covered in gray fur.

"Hey there Henry," Landon said to the Pokémon who replied with a cheerful bark. "Sorry, boy, it's not playtime," the teen said, "we're going on a mission."

The Poochyena's ears perked up at that and Landon proceeded to explain their assignment while pulling his standard-issue Magma hood on over his black t-shirt. His explanation ceased as the teen examined himself in the slice of mirror he had lifted from one of the abandoned houses in the town. His reflection showed the familiar face with the same narrow eyes and heavy brow that Landon had grown accustomed to. His hand absentmindedly ran over his crooked nose, broken and healed many times from the multitude of fights the teen had found himself in, even before he had joined Magma.

Yes, this was the same face he had had, but something was different about it. The way his uniform's red hood framed his face hid Landon's short hair and made his face look less personable and more sinister, especially with the hints of black horns rising out of the top of the hood. When they first were given their Magma reds, he and the other recruits had joked about how the black bumps made the wearer look like a particularly pathetic excuse for a demon, but now Landon appreciated them. The more he looked at the mirror, the more Landon thought that he didn't look like himself anymore, no, he was just another of the identical and endless hordes of grunts.

"But I'm not," he whispered to the sliver of glass, "I am so much more." Henry made an inquisitive sound and Landon shook out of whatever trance he was in. "Nothing," he said to his Pokémon, "It was nothing, come on, let's go. Don't want to keep the Chief waiting."

The Magma recruit grabbed his bag of rations and other supplies. Then, with one last glance at the fragment of mirror, Landon left his tent, followed closely by his Pokémon whose stubby tail wagged excitedly in anticipation for the journey ahead.


End file.
